Mutants Make Good Bounty Hunters
by Mr. BramStoker
Summary: While snoozing on a lazy Thursday, Jean and Betsy imagine themselves as bounty hunters in the wild west where Cyclops is the sheriff and Magneto is the infamous town outlaw and Jean and Betsy are the only two that can take him out. But it was all a wild, intriguing dream… or WAS it?


**Mutants Make Good Bounty Hunters**

It was a lazy Thursday morning in the Xavier mansion as the resident X-Men were either fighting the good fight against evil mutants, practicing their newly acquired skills in combat, or just loitering around and being lazy, which is exactly what Jean Grey and Betsy Braddock were currently doing, snoozing on the sofa.

However, after watching reruns of Bonanza for the fifteenth time, Jean and Betsy started undergoing a rather weird dream…

The year was now 1884. The town was Salem Gulch, where Sheriff Scott Summers was the local lawman, and Erik 'Mad Magnus' Lehnsherr was the infamous outlaw that made every citizen fear for their lives. However, one sunny day, all that changed when two strangers rode into town.

"Hey you! What's your business in these here parts of town?" Deputy Bobby Drake asked abruptly, not before noticing the two he was addressing were women, and definitely **not** men.

"The name's Jean Sharp, this here's my big sister Betsy Sharp. They call us the Sharp Sisters, the fastest, wildest, trigger happy pair of bounty hunters in the West!" Jean explained, revealing an eyepatch covering her right eye.

"Jean lost her good right eye to warts when she was 'round three or so." Betsy piped up, Drake nodding before adding "well, might wanna suggest you ladies speak to the sheriff about your bounty."

"Oh we know what bounty we're wantin'." Betsy answered, spitting onto the dust. Jean then reached into her bag and pulled out a wanted poster for Magneto and read "Wanted: dead or alive for five thousand US dollars, Erik 'Mad Magnus' Lehnsherr for murder, stagecoach robbery, racketeering, and forgery."

Scott heard most of the girls' statements, took a puff of his cigar and spoke in a quaint Southern accent "well, I declare y'all seem to be professional hunters for hire, am I right?"

"Damn straight, sheriff. We can bring Lehnsherr behind bars, or under six feet of dirt." Jean answered, before tipping her hat down over her head and began to snore.

"You'll have to excuse my lil' sister, Scott. She's got that tomboyish look goin' on. I raised her myself when our daddy died by them damn Confederates. Our mammy fell in with some gypsies and they left for Peru right after Jean was born. I raised her myself, which is why I'm responsible for her safety. You got that?" Betsy asked, having described their backstory to Scott, who was quite amazed for how brave Betsy was to raise an orphaned sibling into a dependent, reliable young woman.

"well I'll be a son of a Tomahawk. Alright Drake, go get the gals some supplies and make sure they're well treated in my town, y'hear?" Scott ordered, Bobby nodding in reply. Betsy then scooped up Jean in her arms, tipped her hat to Scott and both left for their new home.

The sun shone brightly the next morning as Jean and Betsy rode for Brotherhood Ranch, the meanest, nastiest, most despised plantation in the Deep South. It was rumored that long ago, Lehnsherr killed his own wife when she refused to send their eldest daughter Wanda off to boarding school and buried her remains in one of the cornfields. Nobody knows if it really happened, or the rumor that Lehnsherr may have a skeletal leg.

"Here it is, the old Brotherhood house. It's a safe bet old man Lehnsherr is in there." Betsy remarked, as Jean loaded her trusty handgun. Jean took a swig of her sarsaparilla and uttered "Let's do this" as they dismounted their steeds and headed for the house.

Now for some reason, the plantation was known for having mutant slaves. The head slavemaster was Fred 'Sparrow' Dukes, the burliest, nastiest and most obnoxious man that ever existed. He was so fat, he was stricken with tuberculosis after inhaling cider gases from a steel mill in Kentucky.

"Hey! Someone take down those two mutant sons of bitches down there! They look they about to burst through here!" Dukes rasped, before coughing violently as the two ranchers Morty 'Toad' Tonberg and Jason Wynngarde both raised their shotguns and aimed at the approaching bounty hunters.

"Guess they aint in the mood for introductions." Betsy mused, noticing the standoffish approach most of the plantation residents took. "Then I guess we better show 'em how it's done." Jean remarked, letting loose a bullet from her handgun, the bullet piercing Toad through the skull, killing him instantly.

"NOOO! Morty! No, goddamit!" Jason screamed before glaring angrily at Betsy, her pistol aimed at Jason's privates. "You just got yourself disarmed." Betsy uttered, shooting out both Jason's left and right armbones before Jean shot Jason's crotch, him screaming in pain.

"How does **that** feel? You've been abusing mutants for too long, boy! Now y'all are getting what you deserve!" Jean called out, the slavers raising their hands and surrendering. "Thought so. Now…" Jean continued, silencing Jason with a bullet before facing Dukes "Now where was we? That's right. When you tried to rape me back in Utah…"

"p-please, don't hurt me! I swear to God, I never did anything!" Dukes lied pathetically, trying to unloosen his gun. "…You had your hands on my balls!" Jean hissed, blasting out Dukes' kneecaps and groin, Dukes screaming loudly in pain. Some of the slaves found it darkly amusing. Betsy looked at them in disgust and said, "Get outta here. You don't wanna see what comes next."

After shooting Dukes, Jean grabbed a bottle of nitroglycerin and stuffed it in the bag for use later. Betsy and Jean then entered the kitchen before seeing that the gunmen were all drunk from the wine. One thug made the foolish mistake of thinking a gun was a wine, only to gasp as Jean pulled the trigger…

BANG!

Red blood splattered all over the turpentine-pink colored walls as Betsy disposed of the bodies while Jean grabbed all the riches and gold from the vault. "Looks like this is our best bounty yet, eh Jean?" Betsy commented as they both walked up the steps and found Lehnsherr himself, decrepit, wrinkled and hoarsely breathing. His hand was resting on a withered cane and his face was hollow and horribly sickened.

"Who… who are you?" Lehnsherr wheezed hoarsely, his old age delaying him from raising his vocal chords. Jean took a step forward. "we're the daughters of the man you killed as a Rip during the Civil War. Your judgment day has been called. And we are the jury." Jean boasted, raising her pistol to his head. Lehnsherr tried to attack, but Jean quickly shot him in the chest before shoving the nitro down his throat.

"Now what?" Betsy asked before both girls realized that nitro has a very **explosive** touch. "Let's get the hell out of here." Jean replied, taking the nitro and hurled it right into the nearby farmhouse, where a loud explosion occurred. Taking Lehnsherr's corpse, the sisters rode off in the way they came.

"Jean? Jean, wake up!" Lorna said, shaking Jean's shoulder as she was snoring and as a pint of drool formed on her lip. Jean finally opened her eyes, yawned and murmured "whoa, what a weird dream…"

"What now?" Betsy asked sleepily, having also been aroused from her prolonged snooze. "I had this dream that Betsy and I were bounty hunters, Magneto was an outlaw, we killed both Blob, Toad and Mastermind, and-and Magneto was like this old looking zombie and…" Jean babbled, Bobby twirling his index finger. Lorna slapped him up the head.

"That's the most **ridiculous** thing I've ever heard of!" Logan snorted gruffly. "I'm not crazy, Logan!" Jean snapped, feeling vaguely insulted by his grouchy personality.

"It's ok. I believe you." Betsy replied, placing her arm around Jean, as they were just about to go to bed. "Really? You think? Cause, unlike Scott and the others, most think I'm a little wild with my imagination." Jean confessed, Betsy rubbing her red hair and hugging her closely.

"Well, I think you have a **wonderful** sense of creativity. And hey, dreams **can** come true you know?" Betsy replied, kissing Jean's forehead before yawning "But now, it's time for sleep. We have a busy day in the morning."

"Goodnight Bets." Jean yawned sleepily, turning off her light as she drifted off to sleep. Betsy watched her snore and dream and gently rubbed her back, listening to her snoring. "Sweet dreams Jean. I love you sis." Betsy whispered, kissing Jean before drifting off to slumber. And, if their hearing was accurate, they could've sworn they heard the sounds of horses racing across the dust…


End file.
